


Ministrations

by sterlingstars



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, M/M, laurent plays doctor, shy nerds are shy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-14
Updated: 2015-08-14
Packaged: 2018-04-14 15:03:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4568967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sterlingstars/pseuds/sterlingstars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Laurent stumbles on Gerome in the night, neither of them able to sleep well. Laurent decides to play doctor as a result to help with Gerome's headaches, closeness ensues, and these two nerds catch a lovebug.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ministrations

It's late. Ridiculously late. Laurent shouldn't be awake at such an atrocious hour, considering there's never a shortage of work to be done in the day, but he's lost to the numbers in the budget books. His quill scratches rhytmically across the parchment, his brow gently furrowed in concentraion as he writes down the numbers that are a result of his meticulous calculations.

By the time he leaves the suply tent, it's the dead of night. Unfortunately, even as he makes his way back to his tent to rest, Laurent is still rather alert. The numbers are fresh in his head, and he flexes his hand at the absence of his quill. It's been a long day, and a long night, but here he was, awake and probably not sleeping anytime soon. 

He can already hear his mother lecturing him in his head about proper hours of rest and sleep cycles, but he pushes the internal chatter to the back of his mind. He needs to wind down if he's going to get any sleep, and fabricating a lecture from his mother was certainly not going to help the situation. 

He slows his pace, breathing in the light summer air. It's pleasant outside- gently warm, with a nice breeze and a bright carpet of stars visible in a cloudless sky. Laurent enjoys nights such as these, and takes a little time to enjoy it as he makes his way across the camp. 

Along the way, he hears a gentle growling sound. Startled, he lookes around in the dark, brow raised and any pretense of relaxation flooding off of him. 

Looking around the area, he very carefully presses forward, his eyes peeled as he searches the darkness. The sound comes again, a little softer, followed by... a sigh?

“Minerva,” the voice says, softly. “You can't be so loud- you'll wake everyone.”

Laurent's shoulders sagg with relief at the sound of Gerome's voice. Perhaps he ought to have known better, but too many years of unexpected Risen attacks have shaped his instincts to swerve towards a fight. He approaches the noises, thankful that it's only the wyvern and her rider, though he is surpised to see that the latter is awake at such an hour.

“Good evening, Gerome,” Laurent said softly as he approached, the grass crunching under his feet.

Gerome looks up, obviously a little startled by his presence. His expression is near impossible to read with the mask over his face, but Laurent thinks he sees relief when he realizes who it is. He doesn't relax completely, as is his nature, but he drops whatever guard he had put up initially.

“What are you doing out so late?”

“I got a little lost to the accounts,” Laurent says a bit sheepishly. “The time seemed to get away from me. That happens a lot when I work with numbers. But I may ask the same of you, Gerome- what possesses you to be awake at this hour?”

“I... don't sleep well,” he says simply.

His tone is guarded, and Laurent knows he won't say anything more. He doesn't pressure him, however, and picks invisible lint off of his robes before speaking again.

“If... if you don't mind, I would like to join you out here for a bit,” he says a little nervously. “Sleep isn't coming very easily to me tonight, either, and, well, it seems a waste to pass up some company.”

He's nervous in asking simply out of being unsure of Gerome's response. They've talked before- plenty of times, with Laurent's weekly reports- but this feels a little different. It's less formal, unscheduled, and, truthfully, a touch vulnerable. Something about the night makes Laurent feel a little exposed.

Gerome nods, gesturing to the vicinity, and Laurent smiles slightly, settling himself cross-legged onto the grass. Minerva swings her head around and gently nudges his arm with her snout. He smiles and pats her scaly cheek, earning a hum of approval from the wyvern. 

“She seems to like you an awful lot,” Gerome says quietly. “She's usually picky, but... she's taken to you well.”

“Well, that is certainly preferable to being on her bad side,” he says with a chuckle.

They sit in silence for a moment, Minerva eventually settling into the grass, making soothing little humming sounds. The breeze is gentle, and Laurent feels completely at ease. It's nice, this quiet compaionship.

“I'm... glad you're the one who found me,” Gerome says softly, breaking the silence. 

Laurent looks up from the strands of grass he's been braiding together, a little more than surprised. 

“You are?”

He nods. “You're... quiet. Nice. You don't ask too many questions. So many people do. I just...” He pauses, then, and if Laurent's not mistaken, he's blushing. “I enjoy your company.”

It's Laurent's turn to flush, his cheeks feeling warm against the cool breeze. The braided grass slips from his fingers and onto the ground, forgotten. He fiddles with the hem of his robe, unsure of what to say.

“I... thank you. I'm... surprised. But I enjoy your company, as well. You're... very pleasant to be around.”

He's not sure what allows him to say this. Something about the night, and vulnerability, or perhaps his lack of sleep. He's not sure, but either way, it's in the air now. Gerome pauses, seems to be mulling over his words. Laurent swallows, his palms suddenly a bit sweaty. He takes his gloves off and slips them into his pocket, allowing the cool air to drift over them.

This is new territory. He's been speaking with Gerome for a few months now, giving his annual reports. There have been idle conversations about a multitude of things, and they've all been nice, but never quite like... this, whatever it is. When he looks up, Gerome's mask is off, hanging gently in his fingers, and Laurent can't stop his eyes from widening.

Gentle amber eyes, lined with the purple of sleep deprivation, meet his own dark ones. They just sort of look at each other for a moment, but Gerome quickly looks away, a little flushed.

“I don't... I don't usually take my mask off. But... headaches. I get them, a lot. That's why I'm awake.”

“Oh.”

They sit in silence again, and when he's sure Gerome isn't looking, Laurent steals glances of his face. He has a delicate facial structure, regal and beautiful like his mother's. He looks tired, though, and it pains Laurent to see his friend in such an obvious state of discomfort.

“Perhaps... I could try and make you something,” he offers. “For the headaches, I mean to say. I'm not sure what all you've tried, but there is a chance that I could make something for you to ease your pains, so you have less or no more trouble sleeping. It's no good for you, to lose so much rest.”

Gerome's face softens, and he smiles. It's a gentle thing- a sublte upturn of the corners of his mouth- but it's there, and it's noticeable, and it also makes Laurent's heart skitter a little in his chest. He is, Laurent has just seemed to notice, rather handsome, udnerneath that clunky mask of his. He wills himself to keep his composure.

“You don't have to do that,” he says. “No need to waste your efforts on me. You should be helping the army as a whole.”

He shakes his head. “Helping you will help the army,” he says. “If you perform at top condition, it helps us all out, doesn't it? Besides, I want to. As... as your friend.”

There's no fighting the flush that rises at these words, and for all his poise, Gerome manages to look a little startled. Somehow, he wasn't expecting that particular choice of words, it seems.

“Well, when you put it that way, I suppose it is hard to refuse,” he says a little sheepishly.

Laurent is surprised at this little display of... normalcy. Gerome is normally so guarded and clipped with his reactions, that seeing him look sheepish is utterly new. He decides, then, that he likes it, likes this side of Gerome. He wants to see the rest.

He offers a warm smile.

+

This becomes a routine for them- talking in the dead of night. They find a spot a little ways away from the main body of camp, so as not to disturb their comrades, and talk. It's much different from their regular conversations, and it's as if they become different people, during these nights. Gerome takes his mask off almost every time, and not always for a headache, even.  
Laurent works on his medicine for Gerome in his spare time, consulting his mother and even Maribelle, looking for advice on some of the finer arts of healing so that he can prepare something with a more permanent solution. He makes a few good temporary ones, and Gerome looks a lot more rested in the next few times they meet. It does him a lot of good to see the smudges under his friend's eyes begin to dissapate. He feels proud of his work, of the help he's giving. It makes him feel useful.

Gerome seems much better off from it, as well. The progress is small, but it is progress, nonetheless, and he seems to be immensely pleased with the results, however temporary they are. 

He expresses his enthusiasm to Laurent openly, surprising him.

“I haven't slept so well in a long time,” he says eagerly one night. Minerva hums happily behind him. “This is... fantastic, what you're doing for me. I cannot ever hope to thank you enough. Or even properly, really. I feel like a new person.”

Laurent beams, flushing with pride at the compliment, as well as his friend's enthusiasm. 

“Well, i-it's no trouble,” he says. He's distracted by how open and expressive Gerome's face is- his smile is stunning, even in this dark. “Really, I'm glad to do it. I like helping you.”

Gerome's face goes soft, and he very tentatively reaches out, resting his hand on Laurent's. They're both still wearing their gloves, but Laurent feels like a shockwave has gone through him where their hands touch. He feels a little tingly, his heart flying in his chest. 

“Thank you,” he says, gently, warmly. “I can't thank you enough. No one has ever... no one's ever done something so nice for me.”

“I... I care about you, G-gerome,” he stutters out. He can't look at anything but the grass he's sitting on, the worn hem of his robe. “Of course I want to do this.”

“Laurent...” The other man speaks his name so tenderly, he can't help but look.

Gerome's eyes are warm, his face so open and soft. Laurent's mouth falls into a little o at the sight, and he's struck, once again, by just how handsome Gerome is. He smiles, and it's tender, and Laurent thinks that this is perhaps a dream, that is has to be, because Gerome can't possibly be looking at _him_ like _that_.

He stands, breaking the spell, and Laurent looks up at him, a little dumbstruck. He offers his hand, and Laurent takes it, numbly standing with his help. His knees feel a little weak as he stands, and he brushes grass off of himself to avoid making eye contact and embarrassing himself.

They're close. Very close. Laurent's breath hitches in his throat, and he's sure that Gerome can hear the way his heart is racing, because it seems incredibly loud with how it's pounding in his ears. His smile is so soft.

He leans in close, and Laurent wants to fall over. His hand is still lightly gripped within Gerome's.

“Thank you,” he whispers, and his lips brush Laurent's earlobe. 

Just as he pulls away, Laurent feels the light press of Gerome's lips on his cheek. It's very light, but it is very much there, and it is gone just as quickly. He's off in moments, and it feels like he's gone before Laurent even has a chance to recover his breathing. 

He watches him go, back straight and proud, as Minerva circles overhead. He rips his left glove off, touches his hand to his cheek, which feels like it's burning. 

Gerome. Kissed him. 

_Oh_. 

Things were changing- and not just with their sleeping patterns, either. It was going to be a long night for Laurent.

+

Finally, after a month of research and trial and error, he's done it. Gerome hasn't had a headache for a consecutive week. He looks ten times better, and when they have their nightly talks, he looks refreshed, the circles under his eyes finally gone.

“You look so well,” Laurent says, beaming. 

They're sitting in Gerome's tent- it's been raining the last few days, and the ground is soaked through. It's warm and dry here, and Gerome looks almost radiant, his face healthy and his mask off, the lantern light glowing gently on his skin.

“I feel so much better,” he says. “And I know I've said this far too many times already, but thank you. Truly, you've been so good to me.”

Laurent's mouth is a little dry as he smiles, chuckling nervously. 

“I-it was no trouble at all.”

Before Gerome says anything more, the rain starts up again, pattering against the tent. They both look up, startled. 

“The walk home will be unpleasant,” Laurent says with a frown to the roof of the tent.

“You should stay.”

They both freeze, eyes wide. Gerome instantly flushes deep read, looking at the floor. He looks nervous, which is definitely a side of him Laurent has never seen. 

“I...” He swallows, his heart slamming painfully in his chest. “I-if you would be alright with that arrangement, then I suppose-”

He's cut off mid-sentence as Gerome's mouth collides with his in a warm burst of a kiss. He's breathless, as if someone's knocked the wind out of him, and he feels a little dizzy. He's very thankful, then, that he isn't standing- if he were, he would have fallen to the floor.

They break away, flushed and breathing heavily, just staring at each other.

“I'm sorry,” Gerome says, voice a little high-pitched. “Maybe I shouldn't have done that.”

Laurent holds out a hand to shush him, and he promptly stops speaking, looking bewildered. They stay this way for a moment,the air tense.

“Don't apologize.”

Gerome's shoulders sag with relief, and Laurent kisses him. It's the other boy's turn to be surprised, but it quickly breaks into enthusiasm as he grabs Laurent by the shoulders, pulling him close. He spills into Gerome's lap, a tangle of limbs, but doesn't break the kiss. 

He's warm, and soft, and he smells so good. Laurent wraps his arms around Gerome's neck, and then they finally break, panting. Their foreheads touch, and they just sort of look at each other for a long moment, not wanting to break the stillness.

“I've wanted to do that for a while,” Laurent blurts out.

Gerome laughs, and it's rich. He cups Laurent's face in his hand, gently brushes their lips. He smiles.

“Good. So have I.”

So they kiss, again. And again and again, until they're both completely breathless, shirts rumpled and their hair a mess. The rain has yet to subside, keeping their excuse alive, and as the hours tick by, their lids grow heay, limbs slow with their fatigue.

“C'mere,” Gerome whispers, spread on his cot. 

Trembling slightly, Laurent obeys, walking over and sitting on the edge. Gerome grabs him by the waist and pulls him down, flush against him. They face each other, crammed together on the small cot, but they smile anyway. Gerome moves stray hair from Laurent's eyes, and he blushes a little.

“I'm going to sleep well, tonight, I think,” Gerome says quietly.

And they do.


End file.
